Weakness
by Miss Maddie
Summary: Squid hates himself for being weak, and Stanley comforts him with a smile. Rated for language.


Weakness

A/N: This is what happens when I spend a weekend reading and watching everything there is to do with Louis Sachar's amazing book. I I kind of did this in the wrong order, reading some fanfiction, then watching the movie, then re-reading the book, which I haven't read in about eight years. I completely forgot how awesome it is. And as I was reading, I kept thinking, jeez, that Squid is a really great character. So I decided to screw around in his life. Squid, this one's for you. Because you do not get _near _enough love.

-Miss Maddie

* * *

Squid was being stupid and weak, and he hated himself for it.

He hated himself for the tears that carved glistening tracks down his tanned cheeks, but he couldn't will them away. Hell, he could barely muffle his sobs. Squid shoved his face resolutely into his pillow and tried to concentrate on keeping himself together, and keeping quiet. If they heard, if any of them saw, he would be worse than dead.

Silently thanking Armpit and his loud, rasping snores, Squid sniffed quietly and glared at the boy in the cot barely two feet from his own. Hot tears still fell from the brown eyes that bored holes into the back of Caveman's head. Scowling, Squid wished him every nightmare he could think of.

This was his fault. It was his fault for having parents who still gave a damn what happened to their son.

It all started not long after Caveman had first arrived at Camp Green Lake. Having just beaten X-Ray at yet another game of pool, Squid had been lounging in the Wreck Room with the other D-tent boys.

Well, almost all of them. Caveman, back when he was still called "Stanley," was sitting on one of the battered couches, scribbling on a piece of paper. Squid had recognized that look almost immediately.

He was writing to his parents.

Squid sighed heavily. He didn't know who had appointed him to this job, but he made a mental note to give whoever it was a good pounding. Whenever one of the newbies got into his head that Mommy and Daddy gave a shit, it was Squid's unofficial duty to straighten him out.

In a few quick, loping strides, Squid and crossed the room and snatched the half-completed letter out of his hands. Scanning it quickly, words like "fun" and "water-ski" jumped out at him. So Stanley was one of _those_ boys. The ones who tried to convince Mom and Dad that he was having the time of his life out here in this living hell.

Well then, he needed this reality check all the more.

After a few snide comments, Squid had crumpled up the letter and tossed it into the trashcan. He didn't really want to be mean about it, but it was for Stanley's own good. He was only trying to help him, not hurt him. The quicker Stanley realized that his parents didn't care about him, the better off he would be.

Squid knew about that first-hand.

He had tried of course, back in his first few weeks. Everyone tries. He hadn't sugared his letter up, though, like Stanley had. More than anything, it had been to remind his mother than she still had a son, whether she liked it or not. It wasn't sappy or sentimental, but it was all he had.

It had taken Squid about three weeks to realize that she was never going to send a reply. That realization had hit him like a shovel to the face. There had been no denial involved, no "well, the mail's pretty slow out here. Maybe it got lost." He just had to face the facts: his mom had forgotten that he even existed. She was drowning herself in the booze while her son was slowly dying.

So that was why Squid was so pissed and so sad, now. Because for the first time that he could remember, a camper _had _received a return letter. Caveman's mom had written him back.

Squid turned away from Caveman's sleeping form to stare up at the canvas ceiling of the tent, tears still streaming down his face. Trembling, he wrapped his arms around his stomach and bit back a particularly violent sob. He squeezed his eyes together so tightly they hurt, but the tears kept coming, harder and faster than ever.

"You okay?" came a whispered voice to his right.

Squid flinched, his breath catching in his throat.

Caveman was staring at him out of the darkness. He wasn't accusing or teasing him; there was no ghost of a laugh as he rubbed the sleep from his hazel eyes. Caveman's face showed nothing but real concern, and that broke Squid's heart. Seeing that face, he couldn't bring himself to make up some stupid cover story. There was no point, now that Caveman had seen him crying.

"Yeah, I just…I'm fine," he said softly, sniffing as he tried to stem the flow of tears.

Caveman gave Squid a tiny smile. It was a simple thing, a small "cheer up" gesture, but it spoke volumes through the quiet night. Caveman's smile sent a pleasant tingle of warmth up Squid's spine. Despite his better judgement, he found himself returning the smile. It was hard to stay mad at someone when they gave you a smile like that.

_Too bad,_ thought Squid. _I really wanted to be mad at you._

Squid sighed as he turned to stare back up at the canvas ceiling. Caveman was a good guy; there was no denying that. Maybe too good. It would be a lot easier to hate the guy if he wasn't so goddamned _nice_ to everybody, especially people he had no business being nice to.

Squid wiped away the last of his tears and hugged his pillow tightly to his chest. If there was one person who had to witness his weakness, Squid was glad it was Caveman. Caveman wouldn't talk. In a place like Camp Green Lake, where the boys waited like wolves for one of their number to falter, Caveman knew the value of keeping his trap shut. If this got around, that would be the end of him. He was supposed to be the strong one, perhaps not the leader, but certainly one of the primary enforcers. The other tents respected him, feared him, even, and it had to stay that way.

They could never know that Squid still cried at night, because, more than anything, he missed his mom.

So Squid regretted snapping at Caveman the next morning. He hadn't meant for the harsh words to come out the way they did, but Caveman's concerned kindness had struck a nerve. Why couldn't Caveman just let him be miserable like everyone else? Why did he have to care so much?

Squid scowled as he went to pick up his shovel. Even after the threat, Caveman had simply shrugged and walked away. He didn't seem perturbed, but Squid had caught the flicker of hurt that flashed across his face at his sharp words. But there were other people around, and he couldn't take them back. He could only hope Caveman would understand.

Later that day, when they were all out on the lake, Squid caught Caveman's eye and gave him a tiny smile. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

* * *

A/N: Not bad, I think. I'm planning on doing some future work with Squid, maybe something about what he did to get sent to CGL, since we don't really know much about him. That boy needs hugs in a large way.

- Miss Maddie


End file.
